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Jan. 7th, 2003 12:12 amThis is my favorite popcorn. I buy it at a bulk Amish foods store in Shipshewana, Indiana. I don't eat a *lot* of popcorn, but I do enjoy it now and then.
I grew up on popcorn. When dad was home, he would pop up batches all the time. We were always snacking on it with a variety of toppings. when my brother was old enough to chew solids, but not crunchy solids, my mother would bite off the kernel and let my brother have the puff.
Dad went through various kinds of poppers. I remember the air popper fondly. I always wanted him to put butter in the little butter drip tray. Now that I'm older and have to clean my own kitchen appliances, I know why he often balked at this. He had a microwave popper once, too, in the days before microwave popcorn. We even popped corn in paper bags in the microwave when we were out of the microwave popcorn from the store.
When I went away to school, I took a microwave so I could pop my own popcorn and boil my own water for tea.
It wasn't until a year or so ago that I finally asked boy to teach me how to make popcorn on the stove. He grew up making it that way. I soon mastered the art, though I ruined a couple copperbottom pans with my forgetfulness.
With my jaw problems, I can't always enjoy my beloved popcorn. Right now, though, I can chow down so long as I take some naproxen right around the time I'm eating it.
I turn on the oven and put an old green bowl over the simmer burner (oven heat is vented here). I toss a few bits of butter in it. Then I grab my saucepan and coat the bottom generously with canola or safflower oil. I toss in several kernels (at least one of each variety of corn in my mix), cover, and turn the heat up just above half. I jiggle the pot once in awhile. When all the kernels have popped, I dump in 1/4 to 1/3 of a cup of popcorn. I proceed to stand while rattling, shaking, and hopping the pot over the burner from time to time. When the popping slows way down, I pour the contents into the green bowl, turn off the oven and burner, and grab a big spoon. I use the spoon to toss the corn, coating it with butter. Then I serve myself some in a smaller bowl, add liberal amounts of brewer's yeast and Trocomare, and go find something to read or watch.
And I sit here, remembering sitting with my daddy and a big bowl of popcorn, watching the Muppet show and giggling as he sang along or yelled back at the characters.
Mmmmm, popcorn.
I grew up on popcorn. When dad was home, he would pop up batches all the time. We were always snacking on it with a variety of toppings. when my brother was old enough to chew solids, but not crunchy solids, my mother would bite off the kernel and let my brother have the puff.
Dad went through various kinds of poppers. I remember the air popper fondly. I always wanted him to put butter in the little butter drip tray. Now that I'm older and have to clean my own kitchen appliances, I know why he often balked at this. He had a microwave popper once, too, in the days before microwave popcorn. We even popped corn in paper bags in the microwave when we were out of the microwave popcorn from the store.
When I went away to school, I took a microwave so I could pop my own popcorn and boil my own water for tea.
It wasn't until a year or so ago that I finally asked boy to teach me how to make popcorn on the stove. He grew up making it that way. I soon mastered the art, though I ruined a couple copperbottom pans with my forgetfulness.
With my jaw problems, I can't always enjoy my beloved popcorn. Right now, though, I can chow down so long as I take some naproxen right around the time I'm eating it.
I turn on the oven and put an old green bowl over the simmer burner (oven heat is vented here). I toss a few bits of butter in it. Then I grab my saucepan and coat the bottom generously with canola or safflower oil. I toss in several kernels (at least one of each variety of corn in my mix), cover, and turn the heat up just above half. I jiggle the pot once in awhile. When all the kernels have popped, I dump in 1/4 to 1/3 of a cup of popcorn. I proceed to stand while rattling, shaking, and hopping the pot over the burner from time to time. When the popping slows way down, I pour the contents into the green bowl, turn off the oven and burner, and grab a big spoon. I use the spoon to toss the corn, coating it with butter. Then I serve myself some in a smaller bowl, add liberal amounts of brewer's yeast and Trocomare, and go find something to read or watch.
And I sit here, remembering sitting with my daddy and a big bowl of popcorn, watching the Muppet show and giggling as he sang along or yelled back at the characters.
Mmmmm, popcorn.
